


Damning Review

by Hakuyu



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Mind Games, Psychological Drama, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 12:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15364605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hakuyu/pseuds/Hakuyu
Summary: The time in Cochlea is very monotonous. This is what Eto thinks. Almost every change is welcome. Fortunately, Furuta keeps her company.





	Damning Review

Four centimeters.  
That's how thick the bulletproof glass was, that was separating the two of them. Too bad though. She would like to reach forward with her arm, put her hand around his throat and squeeze slowly and pleasurably. She would even rather activate her Kagune, break the glass into a thousand pieces and give him the same fate as the glass in the process. Unfortunately, the RC suppressant made the use of their Kagune impossible.  
Maybe it would help if she got more food. But the rations here in Cochlea were given in such rates, that the Ghoule could not draw any strength from them. It was fine with her. Eto didn't need a Kaguna to defend himself.  
After all, a writer's most powerful weapon was still the word.  
Furuta Nimura smiled at her behind the glass. Then he raised one hand and waved to her happily. He mocked her. Obviously. Pretty brave for someone whose only protection was just a pane of glass. Admittedly a very effective glass pane, but it was still just a glass pane. He's supposed to be making fun of her. This man had no idea. Besides, he himself was one of the greatest laughingstock imaginable.  
Eto returned the smile.  
"So…I see, you're back," she said in a soft voice.  
"Yes, I'm back," Furuta replied, wearing the grin on his lips like a mask, "And I see you're still here. " Of course she was. And she was right where she wanted to be. Eto nodded to her counterpart, placing her naked forearms on the counter, that was placed under the glass wall and divided the room into two sections.  
"Where did you leave your partner? Has investigator Sasaki had enough of you and now you are running to me in desperation?," Eto asked.  
"You are too charming," Furuta stated eloquently, "But no, Sasaki is terribly busy, as you must know.  
And I thought I'd come and see you vegetating in your cell. I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me. "  
"That's a pity, I was so looking forward to see Sasaki. Having to see your ugly face instead drags me down a little bit."  
In fact, she had expected to meet Sasaki when one of the guards said an investigator wanted to talk to her. She had managed to arouse his curiosity with her hints towards the One-Eyed-King for sure.  
Sure enough, that's how the boy ticked after all.  
Sasaki wanted to know more about the One-Eyed King. About the role of V. And she, Eto, had all the answers. It was only a matter of time before he would come back to her. How nice it would be to talk to him again - it was always very entertaining.  
Instead, seeing Furuta behind the glass had been, to say the least, a disappointment. Damn clown. But well, she had to take what she got. Cochlea didn't offer much variety let alone diversion. And Furuta was also wonderfully entertaining when you pressed the right buttons.  
The other day he had told her to die as if in madness, he had completely freaked out – just because she said a single sentence. That had been wonderful. Fragile little Washuu. But now there was no sign of loss of control. Rather, the investigator seemed to have all the strings in his hand. Stupid boy. If he knew that Eto had already wrapped Kaneki Ken around her finger completely and he did everything she wanted. But not even Kaneki Ken himself knew anything about it. It was her and Arima's little secret. Furuta tilted his head, his thick black hair fell into his face. Perfect side parting. Perfectly straight, as if pulled with a ruler.  
The tangled strands of her chin-length hair tickled Etos' cheeks.  
"My, my. . . that hurt a lot," Furuta smiled smugly. As if. Hypocrite. She'd hurt him yet.  
"I'm sure you have a reason for wasting my time," Eto pounced.  
Furuta leaned back in his chair.  
"No, not really. I just want to watch you suffer. "  
What? Was that really all? Fucking sadist. Eto laughed.  
"Well, then you can wait a long time for that. "  
A thin grin spread to Furuta's face. Ugly face. . . maybe Eto exaggerated a little bit. Furuta had fine, thin features. His skin was flawless, except for the little mole under the eye, impeccable and white. The light complexion almost bit itself with the dark, cold eyes and its tar-colored hair.  
The contrast made him look paler, almost unhealthy. No, of course he was not healthy, he shared his fate with Arima.  
Both children from the Sunlit Garden, both doomed to die young.  
Arima's life would end soon. That was the plan, the agreement.  
Kill the One-Eyed King - Eto had already given the order to Sasaki, even if he could not interpret it. She was the one who pronounced Arima's death sentence. And Arima waited.  
Sasaki just had to enforce it. Hopefully, the wretch in front of her would soon come to his end as well. Furuta was digging in the pocket of his suit. The fabric was also pitch-black, shiny slightly. The tie alone was blood-red. How nice it would be if blood ran out of his neck and stained his tie with real blood.  
Furuta was kind of dark. The black of his eyes, hair and clothes broke with the white of Cochlea. Here in Cochlea everything was white.  
The walls. The cold, tiled floor. The doors. The clothes. The thoughts. A swab of black was a welcome change. It was like putting a drop of ink in clear water.  
Furuta hit an object on his side of the bar with a dull bang.  
Eto faltered. A book. She immediately recognized the dark envelope, she had chosen the cover herself together with her editor. King Bileygr. Did he. . . ?  
"That's very nice of you to bring me some reading," Eto purred, "but this is my own book. That won't be very exciting to read. "  
"No, Mrs. Takatsuki. You misunderstand. I have read it. " Furuta's smile was unbroken.  
He did read it after all - unbelievable.  
She already thought the Washuu would ignore it all. On the other hand, such a work was impossible for the family to ignore. She made sure of that. How nice to know it was actually read.  
"So?", Eto put her elbow up and put her cheek in the palm of her hand, "What do you say? I'm sure it hasn't come as a great surprise to you either. "  
Furuta laughed, leaned further back in his chair until he began to wobble.  
"It was pretty boring. Really nothing new. The contents are too soft. If you really wanted a revolution, you should have written the whole truth. Which, you didn't, thank God. "  
No, she didn’t. For good reason. The truth was so strange and implausible that one would actually only expect it in a book. If she had written that the Washuu, the founding family of the CCG, were Ghouls, her readers would have felt that they were part of a fantasy story.  
No one would have believed that this representation was true.  
She had long since learned that one could not simply attack thoughtlessly with all one's strength.  
That's why she had to be more careful, more sensible. She had to administer the deadly poison of truth in small doses, she had to seed suspicion, she had to cause doubt.  
"You must know I have good reasons for choosing this method of presentation," Eto explained with a smile. Furuta reached for the book and waved it in the air.  
The pages fluttered.  
"Yes, yes, that may be so. But it does not save the plot. I'm afraid the idea of the revolution is complete nonsense. The whole framework of your story is shaky. There are things that will never happen and what happens in your book sums up many of these things nicely. For my sake, live out your fantasies on paper, but please don't put it into reality. The more you strive for change, the more disappointed you are in the end. What you describe will never happen. Even if there is a king, I doubt that he is strong enough to unite the ghouls and overthrow human supremacy. Such a revolution is all well and good. But is this really the right way? To really make a change, something even stronger is needed. You should have taken that into account in the plan of action. "  
Eto pressed his lips together. Then she smiled. Stupid little Washuu.  
What could be stronger than her? She who, through her sole existence, her strength and her knowledge, could destroy the whole existing society?  
The present world was wrong. The ghouls were suppressed, persecuted, killed. By humans.  
And by ghouls themselves, who stood above everything.  
The CCG. V. Washuu. They were all rotten, from the inside out. Through and through.  
And one of those spoiled fruits of Washuuu sat right opposite her and picked her book to pieces.  
Literally. Meanwhile Furuta had begun to tear individual pages out of the work, crumple them up and drop them to the floor with a cheerful expression on his face. "It was also written amateurishly, by the way. Have you ever considered inserting terms that are easier to understand? In doing so, you will not reach the broad mass of society and certainly not the ghouls, who are known to often lack a decent school education.  
You should also work on your sentence structure. And because everything and everyone was bad in some way, you couldn't empathize with anyone. Even if the supposedly "good" had won - whatever you understand by "good" - it would still have turned out badly in the end. The world would not have gotten any better, the ghouls would have been free, but the killing would have continued. What kind of double standards is that? One could identify with the main character at all. Zero. He was everything and nothing. An empty shell. The pacing was trash, too. The story is too long and dragging. "  
One of the paper balls hit the glass.  
If it hadn't been for that glass, the paper bullet would have slammed into Eto forehead.  
Of course she would have dodged before to prevent worse - she did not let herself be thrown off with her own book. The next paper ball bounced off the window. Next one. Furuta's bombing just didn’t end. Nor did Etos' smile.  
The book was supposed to upset the Washuus.  
It had obviously served its purpose.  
But Furuta was probably no more a Washuu than Arima, if not less than Arima.  
No, Furuta was in no way a comparison or even competition for Arima.  
The longer Eto watched and listened, the more disgusted she was. More and more, Arima seemed to her like a counterpart to this joke.  
Arima, who was himself an illegitimate, outcast Washuu member, but who had recognized the corruption of the system. Who had decided to fight with her against the Washuu and all that was connected with them.  
Furuta, on the other hand, also seemed to have a great insight into the system. He was also an outcast child of Tsuneyoshi. One of the children who had never met their father.  
But unlike Arima, Furuta was completely behind the CCG.  
Supported this rotten organization, even though he knew the truth.  
He was nothing more but a fucking hanger and coward.  
The Garden raised it’s children really well. The members of V have always understood themselves well in being cowardly. But Furuta was no normal investigator, no normal child from the Washuu’s Sunlit Garden, not a normal V-employee.  
Otherwise he wouldn't be working with ghouls. Ghouls who were hostile to the CCG.  
The ghoul restaurant. The clowns. He had gained access to all these organizations. And that as a human being, as an investigator.  
How was that possible?  
How did he do that? What was his purpose? He even worked with Kanou. No, someone like that couldn't be a normal person.  
Someone who deceitfully dropped steel beams onto a ghoula so that it could serve as an experiment for Kanou and crept into all sorts of organizations obviously had problems. Problems with the system. With the world.  
Eto smiled. Perhaps Furuta would have been useful to her again one day. Unfortunately, their problems were not the same.  
Or rather, they both stood in each other's way. She who wanted to destroy the Washuu clan.  
He, who fully supported Washuu and the affiliated organizations. Furuta was a miserable member of the Washuu Clan and V, who stuck her nose into all kinds of things.  
His interweaving in all these organizations, even those that were actually reserved for ghouls, and action against the CCG, gave him power and made him opaque. Fortunately, he had not set foot in Aogiri. If he had dared, he wouldn't have survived.  
But Furuta wasn't the only one who was powerful.  
Just because he had somehow managed to stick his nose in almost everywhere, this didn’t give him the rights to act like this. Arrogant pig. But what is it? What on earth was he planning. . . ?  
Whatever it was, it would get in her way.  
That man was a real nuisance.  
But not a direct threat. If she had to, she could wipe him out without a problem.

"Besides, you could have been a little more frugal with all the obscene terms, metaphors and comparisons. That's disgusting, if not perverse. Who wants to read something like this," Furuta continued with his book review. Another ball of paper bounced off the glass.  
Eto tilted his head. What a wimp.  
Even if one could not handle such a way of expression and did not understand the symbolism behind it, who here had an almost sadistic pleasure in literally picking a book to pieces in front of the author and grinning, as if under drugs? Who's been a pervert? "All in all, Takatsuki-san, I'm afraid I have to tell you that you have created a trashy novel that is not worth its money. It’s not even worth the paper it was printed on. You will be pleased to hear that I rated your book accordingly on Amazon. With a one, single star. Too bad that there are not zero stars. . . Anyway, you can also read my review there. Oh, yeah, right, you're hardly have an internet connection here. Well, it doesn't matter. If you are interested, your book has currently been rated with three and a half stars and has over a thousand reviews. There are five reviews by me, admittedly, on different accounts. You can guess my evaluation in each case. But as you can see from the overall cut, your book splits society. Some see it as a revolutionary masterpiece – a view completely mysterious to me. Probably they are all ghouls or ghoulphile weirdos. Other rational-minded people, including myself, think it's the last conspiracy-theoretical piece of junk.  
Eto grinned. She didn't exaggerate when she called his face an ugly face after all.  
Furuta mastered the perfect, beautiful facade on the outside. On the inside he was corrupted as one could only be. It was hardly understandable that Furuta didn't like her books - this shameless, double-tongued, greasy, on inside so ugly guy would have been a perfect protagonist. Beautiful glow and rotten interior. This was one of Takatsuki Sens's favourite motifs.  
In captivity she had time. She'd make up a nice story for Furuta. Oh, and how much she would torture her new protagonist.  
Maybe Furuta liked that story better. He was the main character himself.  
Yeah this slippery, smug guy would like that for sure. He already thought the whole world revolved around his fucking ass.  
Too bad she would never write this book down. No, King Bileygr was her last work.  
The climax of her work. Her magnum opus. Your masterpiece. It was the book she had always wanted to write. Right from the start.  
She started writing just for fun. To process thoughts, experiences, images in her head. But looking back, her entire literary career came down to this one book.  
It was her duty as a ghoula and as an involuntary confidante of this whole fucking Washuu conspiracy to dedicate this book to her kind. The work was to give hope to the oppressed ghouls of this world. The King would come.  
The intrigues of the Washuus would slowly but surely be uncovered. Day and night she had worked on the book. She had expected King Bileygr to divide society.  
That's what she had written this book for in the first place.  
Yes, and it was wonderful how Furuta was upset about it. How overexcited he reacted.  
But to be picked to pieces by a fucking V-agent, this book really wasn't made for that. Her work did not deserve this.  
What did Furuta even know about plot structure, comparisons, metaphors, character drawing, pacing or literature in general? Nothing!  
"Are you done?" Eto asked with a lovely smile.  
"Not yet, my dear. But this piece of work really isn't worth looking into", with these words Furuta threw the tattered book, which consisted only of a cover and some torn pages, lapidary over his shoulder.  
With a clap the envelope hit the tiles. Meanwhile, the chair legs hit the floor again. Furuta bent over his upper body so that his nose almost touched the glass pane.  
This would put him in the perfect position to take a punch or even a bite. So close and yet so far.  
"Do you know how much time I've wasted on this book," he hissed with a soft smile.  
"Obviously not enough," Eto laughed, "But thank you very much for the constructive criticism. If Kanou, the clowns, V and like all of them dump you one day, you can try yourself as a literary critic. I think you'd be very successful. But be careful, not everyone can handle such honest criticism, but I know you mean well. "  
"I think you misunderstand me again, my dear Takatsuki. You'd better be wasting your thoughts on who actually ends up on the dump. I wouldn't make too many more plans for the future. "  
She didn't have to, it wasn’t necessary.  
The future was taken care of. Kaneki Ken would take the throne. Her role was over anyway. But that fool in front of her didn't suspect anything of that. Of course he didn’t. She had the strings in her hand.  
This did not change with her captivity either, on the contrary. But well, if Furuta wanted to feel safe, believe that he had the upper hand, he'd have a nice surprise.  
"Anyway, thank you very much for the criticism. I'm honest with you. Feedback is always very enriching, especially when it is so constructive and detailed. "  
Eto smiled. Then she breathed on the window, which immediately fogged up under her warm breath.  
The glass was so milky that she couldn't see Furuta. What luck! She started writing with her finger on the fogged surface. In mirror writing so Furuta could read the words well: "You asshole".  
Slowly the dullness dissolved together with the writing, revealing Furuta's soft, unbroken smile. Without a word or even a blink Furuta also breathed against the glass, swinging his finger on the tarnished window. "Bitch."  
Eto couldn't help but laugh.  
She in turn breathed again against the glass.  
Draw a heart that slowly faded.  
Then she threw a smile at Furuta.  
Together they watched silently as the drawing faded.  
The little heart hadn't really disappeared yet, when Furuta bent forward, kissed the pane.  
Long. Deeply. Disgusting.  
For the first time Eto was happy that the glass existed between them, which at four centimeters was definitely not thick enough.  
Four centimeters, that much separated Eto from his lips.  
Disgusting, really. She leaned back a little on her stool, the greater the distance, the better. Furuta rose again.  
His mouth had left milky marks on the glass, which faded together with the rest of the heart.  
"You're a real gentleman," giggled Eto, "If this annoying wall no longer exists between us, you're welcome to repeat it intimately. "  
She wrote _"On my ass"_ on the newly created fitting.  
Furuta raised an eyebrow.  
"You know, Takatsuki-san, these are the very obscenities that make your book unreadable. "  
He shook his head lightly, reprimanding.  
His pitch-black hair hit his cheeks. "And now that we're back on the subject. . . The only thing I liked about the book is the end, because, well, it was over. This document is so terrible, the author should be locked up. I'd say that now. But given your situation, that's not necessary. However. . . ", his grin got something predatory, ". . . you are the author, but not solely responsible for the book, right?" Eto tilted her head, laughing apologetically.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I made it up all by myself. Nobody helped me. So I really don't know what you're getting at. . . "  
Of course she knew.  
Shiono. Her editor. The man who made her life as a writer possible in the first place. Who helped her bring the person "Takatsuki Sen" into the world in the first place.  
Shiono had supported her for ten long years, longer than Aogiri ever existed.  
"Maybe it would help if I mentioned that we interrogated your editor, or. . . how shall I put it? He is still in custody," Furuta explained with a smile.  
Still? Shiono had already confessed. He had admitted finding bodies in her house.  
He betrayed her, confessed that she was a ghoula. After that he had thrown himself on his knees in front of her. Apologized.  
Again and again and again and again. It was all right. He had no choice.  
Not under that pressure. Shiono had always been very nervous that he resisted two investigators in interrogation, could not ask them from him. She didn't expect otherwise. Shiono didn't know she wanted to be right here. In Cochlea. Everything went the way she had planned. Until this moment. That confession would have been enough to release Shiono. Why were they still holding him prisoner? The answer was obvious. V.  
Eto pressed his lips together, smiled at Furuta. "Oh, really?"  
"Are you really surprised?" Furuta narrowed his eyes, “Did you think he would be set free after he was involved in the publication of a ghoula? After driving the publication forward like this?"  
Eto laid her hands on her lap, clawing her fingers into the white, coarse fabric of her prison clothes.  
"I'm not surprised at all. It was obvious that you wouldn't let him go just like that," she said with a gentle smile on her lips. Furuta pressed an index finger on the pane, slowly led it down. The glass squeaked under the fabric of the red gloves. "Don't worry, because I'm such an avid reader of your book, I'll definitely put in a good word for your editor. I'll make sure he's not turned into minced meat. "  
"You're a fucking hypocrite, Furuta-san. "  
Yeah, a fucking hypocrite. It was probably even Furuta who had driven the capture of Shiono. Most likely, at his command, one would be particularly merciless with her editor. Even if someone would stand up for him. . . If Shiono was actually in the control of V, there was no way for him to escape. The Washuu were as cruel as ever. But she had never wanted to lose anyone to V again. Never. Eto kept her smile. A sign of dismay, even a hint of sadness - and Furuta would win.  
She wouldn't give that feeling to that bastard under any circumstances. Not to washuu. Not to V. Especially not to this man.  
If he thought he could shake her superiority and gain the upper hand in such a wicked way, he was mistaken.  
"He's a great editor," Furuta continued. "He was still on your side, even though he knows about your disgusting crimes."  
Right. Shiono was on her side. That was for sure. Otherwise she would never have let him live the moemnt he found out what she really was. But that even after all that, he still was on her side. Even after he betrayed her to the CCG.  
He would make it so much easier for himself if he now simply stood up to Takatsuki Sens's work in conversation with V and condemned it. He could have said she forced him into publication. But even then, he had no realistic chance to escape.  
At least she could thank him that she could be an author because him.  
Eto nodded.  
"Yes. You don't have to tell me, Furuta-san. I know my supervisor. And I know your superiors all too well, too. "  
Furuta's finger was circling on the glass. "Oh, yes, do you?"  
"You people from V are all the same. “  
V only existed to torture her. She had been persecuted all her life. It started with her father and ended here with Furuta. But not only she, also all other Ghoule suffered under the rule of the Washuu and their branch organizations.  
And that's why they had to be destroyed.  
All of them. Thereupon Furuta made only a throw-away gesture.  
"I beg you, Takatsuki-san, don't compare me to average V agents. "  
Eto shrugged her shoulders, lifted her hand and tapped rhythmically with her fingertip against the disc, which separated them.  
"They're absolutely right for once," she smiled, "You're particularly bothersome, bastard clown. "  
"I'm begging you to make me blush," Furuta briefly laid a hand on his cheek. Then he straightened his blood-red tie with both hands.  
She hoped he would get it so tight, that he would strangle himself. "And I can only return this compliment, Owl. "  
"Thank you very much. Do you have anything else to say to me," Eto asked, "This conversation is getting tiring. I wish I had a little more variety. "  
Furuta laughed at "You really would have preferred Investigator Sasaki, huh? If it's any consolation, I also see our conversation as a waste of time. Maybe it’s a nice pastime. But in the end, it's still just a waste of time. "  
"What a coincidence," said Eto, "That's exactly what I was thinking. Then it would really be better if we end the conversation at this point. "  
Furuta rose from the chair with a sweeping, flowing movement.  
"You're absolutely right. Because I have a lot better things to do than to have a little chitchat - unlike you. I will now turn to your editor and give him your best regards. "  
That son of a bitch.  
"Do this. Believe me, Shiono is stronger than he looks. "  
Furuta grinned at her words. "We'll see about that. Oh yes, by the way still something in personal matter: I would have imagined the one-eyed owl somehow more impressive. All I see is a bitter, obscene witch. Really disappointing. "  
Eto tilted his head. "Oh yeah? All I see is a wannabe bad guy who's not recognized by Dad and sticks his dirty nose into all sorts of things that don't concern him. But nothing else could be expected of the Washuu. "  
Furuta's eyebrow rose.  
Would he yell at her again?  
Completely freak out, like the last time she mentioned his father? How nice it would be to see him completely out of control. It must have been raging inside him already. Probably at that moment he wished as much as she did that the glass no longer existed between them. Furuta kept her narrow eyes closed.  
His smile seemed forced, eyebrow and corner of his mouth twitched suspiciously.  
But he remained calm. Too bad, though. It would have been too good. But he didn't want her to have a triumph any more than she wanted him to.  
" In any case, I wish you a nice day," Furuta purred.  
One last time he bent over to the pane, breathed on her and let his finger dance on the milky flooring. He signed his writing with a heart and gave the glass another loving kiss.  
He grinned at her, his pale, wet lips shining. Disgusting pervert.  
Eto smiled.  
Furuta waved his red gloved fingers at her. With dancing steps he left the glass pane. It was like he was leaving a TV screen or a theater stage.  
Eto heard a door open with a metallic squeak and slam shut with a heavy, dull impact.

She was alone. Too soon the guards would come to take her back to her cell. The dark spot in all this white had disappeared.  
With his disappearance Furuta had opened the view of the vestibule. The white, meticulously arranged tiles on the wall and floor. The white counter. The white chair. The white crumpled and torn sheets, which spread over the whole, small room and lay in layers over the white floor tiles.  
Carelessly crumpled balls of labeled paper everywhere. In the corner lay the empty book cover, one last black spot. Eto placed her palm on the cool glass.  
Squeezed. How much pressure did she have to apply before the glass broke?  
It was only four centimeters. That was nothing for the one-eyed owl. But it wouldn't work. Not in this condition. Eto lowered his hand, revealing the strokes Furuta wrote.  
She knew better. She knew that her finger and the writing were four centimeters apart. She couldn't reach the signs, could do nothing.  
Still, she fingered the cold pane and crossed out the words. But they were still written there, just like before.  
Furuta's words. His drawn heart. The print of his kiss.  
All this faded far too slowly.  
_"In any case, I wish you a nice death."_  
Eto smiled.  
"Thank you very much. Likewise. "


End file.
